Another Chance

Pain and despair

Sigyn spent the next hour unable to take her gaze off Loki for more than a few seconds at a time. After his panic attack (Sigyn knew that voice and that look intimately, usually reflected in her own mirror), the brief, chaste kiss, and the interruption, Loki had walked out of the room as if it had been set on fire. Not without apologizing to Liam, one of his theater partners, and overemphasizing that they had just gotten trapped by mistake and weren't doing anything else.

And Sigyn couldn't help but feel hurt. She could understand Loki's desire to protect her dignity, in a chivalrous act if a little unnecessary. And at the same time, Sigyn couldn't help but think that the way he had run away had much more to do with the kiss than with having been discovered.

And as the minutes passed, Sigyn couldn't help but think that what she had done had been stupid. The boy was having a panic attack, and his best idea had been to kiss him? Not only was it absurd to stop the panic like this, but she had risked much more. Their friendship, for starters.

And just when he and Sigyn finally had the freedom to speak. When they had established some intimacy between them, the trust necessary to be more than just acquaintances. Idiot, idiot Sigyn, she wailed as she took another look at him.

The seamstresses had made him take off his jacket and vest, leaving him in just his shirt. She did not doubt that half of them would have preferred to remove that too under the excuse of being able to measure him accurately. But Sigyn knew that even if they proposed it, Loki would refuse completely. The boy had never been prone to exhibitionism, and if she thought about it, she had never seen him in anything but long sleeves, even in the height of summer.

He, too, was not prone to kissing in dark warehouses, an insidious voice whispered in his head.

Sigyn blushed, embarrassed and irritated with herself, and returned her attention to the table where her companions' sketches and ideas were spread out. Sigyn wasn't very good at planning things, she being more of the type of artist that let herself be carried out for the moment. But she was good with colors, and liked playing with them to accentuate one thing or the other, so she had been given that assignment. She flipped through the notes she had in front of her, but couldn't focus.

After taking another look at Loki (he was laughing at something he had been told, while his arms were being measured, and Sigyn looked at him almost mesmerized for more seconds than she should), she looked around for the scriptwriter. Only to find that Sylvie was looking at her. The girl did not take her eyes off her when she was discovered. Instead she raised an eyebrow and tilted her head.

Sigyn lowered her eyes, trying once more to concentrate on the words that insisted on becoming blurs on the paper. There was something familiar, and at the same time strange in the girl's eyes. Almost as bright green as Loki's, they had that same intensity and cunning in them. However, there was also something darker about them. Like the difference between a crystal clear lake before and after the rain. And while Loki's gaze made her feel appreciated and comfortable, Sylvie's made her feel observed. Like a butterfly pinned down and exposed under a lamp.

"I knew that Loki wouldn't take too long to destroy it. Tell me, what has he done to screw up causing that look?"

Sigyn jumped, spinning around with her heart pounding. When had she gotten so close? Why had she gotten so close?

"I do not know what are you talking about."

"Come on, honey, I can see that stray puppy look from across the theater. And I know that Loki has never been able to appreciate the good things that happen to him. What has he done this time?"

Sigyn tensed. What right did Sylvie have to say something like that about him? She had known him for a few days, what could she know? Also, how dare she criticize him after hitting him!

"You don't know anything about him," she said, crossing her arms. "And it's none of your business what happened between us."

Sigyn knew she had made a mistake as soon as the words left her mouth. Sylvie's smile widened, turning into that of a fox that had managed to catch her prey.

"So you admit something happened," she said with deceptive softness, moving closer to her.

Sigyn tried to back away but found that she was pinned between Sylvie and the table. She swallowed.

"Nothing has happened!"

"Come on, darling," Sylvie murmured, leaning a little closer to her and twisting a lock of Sigyn's hair between her fingers. "I know Loki well. I know he has never known how to appreciate... precious things."

Sigyn's breath caught in her throat, and her eyes were locked with Sylvie's. That's why she noticed the brief, very brief glance that the young woman cast to her right. Knowing what she would see, feeling her blood dropping at her feet, she dared to look in the same direction in time for her gaze to meet Loki's.

For a second the abyss of in his gaze swallowed her whole, filled with immense pain. But Loki blinked and his whole expression changed. He closed completely, like a door denying her passage. He gave her one last blank look before turning back to continue talking to his theater partners.

Sigyn clenched her jaw and returned her gaze to Sylvie, who looked so, so satisfied. Anger, an emotion Sigyn had learned to suppress from a very young age, flared in her veins with fury. With a gesture she ripped her hair from the girls's hand and then pushed her. She didn't do it hard, just enough to pull her away from herself, but she still staggered back in surprise.

"You're wrong. Loki knows how to appreciate things. The problem is that some son of a bitch always comes along to snatch them away," Sigyn snarled, making no attempt to hide her fury from him.

Sylvie, far from looking scared or upset, just smiled even more. Something strange flashed in her eyes.

"Then he and I are even," she said with satisfaction.

Sigyn laughed, too loud, too forced.

"You're nuts, right?" Sigyn shook her head. "I've known Loki since we were kids. He owes you nothing. Whatever you think he owes you... It's only in your head."

Only then did Sylvie's expression collapse. All her satisfaction was lost to anger and a strange despair, as endless as Loki's pain. But Sigyn didn't stick around to see more. She picked up the papers on the table and walked away from the girl.

She didn't feel good about herself. She never felt good when she hurt others, even if they deserved it. But sometimes it was necessary. Sometimes you had to hurt others to defend those you loved. Even if it was too late.

With eyes full of tears Sigyn climbed the stairs two at a time and left the theater almost running. She hugged the papers with her work against her chest and walked across the square. She only allowed herself to cry when she was surrounded by plants. Her plants, she liked to think.

She sat on her usual bench and buried her face in her hands. The bench that she had shared with Loki for weeks. The bank the young man would probably not return to.

For once the plants didn't seem able to fill the void inside her.

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I'm still alive! Sorry for all this time.  I had a writer/reader block, and a lot of thing running in my head. I will try to update twice a month or something like that, but at this point I can't guarantee nothing ^^u